Archive for Hugh Grant

The Sunday Intertitle: Beware of Chimps Bearing Intertitles

Posted in FILM, Science with tags , , , on May 26, 2019 by dcairns

THE PIRATES! IN AN ADVENTURE WITH SCIENTISTS!, from Aardman and director Phil Peter Lord, is really VERY good, and ought to be counted as a key film in the wondrous renaissance of Hugh Grant. One might think that playing an ebullient pirate captain would be an easy ask for anyone who’s studied their Robert Newton, but it’s quite a departure from the typical Grant approach up to that time: there’s not a trace of diffidence about this guy. He BOOMS!

But we’re here today to look at intertitles, which in this movie are actually carry-on props, wielded by Charles Darwin’s trained chimpanzee valet, Mr. Bobo.

This is, I think, a unique use of the intertitular form, and the art of animation enhances it, since Bobo is able to swap cards with superhuman supersimian speed, which helps the comedy timing. And the “naturalistic” justification is hilarious, since Mr. Bobo somehow magically has a card for every occasion.

Bear Jams

Posted in FILM, literature, MUSIC, Politics with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on April 7, 2018 by dcairns

Since we’re nothing but a pair of abject slugabeds, it’s taken Fiona & I this long to catch up with PADDINGTON and PADDINGTON 2. Had we realized that director Paul King was responsible for directing The Mighty Boosh on TV, we’d have gotten into the swing of things sooner. As it was, our interest took a while to get kindled.

The news that the producer of the HARRY POTTER series was making a CGI Paddington initially sparked revulsion. I have very fond feelings for the BBC series, which had a lo-tech look that seemed more charming and more in keeping with the innocent flavour of the thing. I even made this tribute. And Fiona has a history with Michael Bond’s original books — when she was very small, her teacher would end the class by having Fiona read a bit of Paddington, as she was an advanced reader. This was done for the sadistic pleasure of seeing her try not to crack up at stories she found irresistibly funny, while the rest of the class, dullards to a man, stared on blankly.Anyway, as the world now knows, the PADDINGTON movies are lovable triumphs, true to the spirit of the original while also folding in a lot of hyperkinetic action and gags and quite a bit of the cuddly Britishness of Aardman animation. But a very inclusive Britishness — the Peruvian bear may speak with an English accent (what accent would be more believable to you, smart guy?) but the films have a theme about welcoming immigrants that’s highlighted by the musical choices including a calypso band, D. Lime, who pop up whenever needed, like the troubadors in CAT BALLOU. Too bad such a message doesn’t seem to stick. How many families who enjoyed these movies also buy the Daily Mail?

Director King’s TV work had a beautiful stylised look, but the lifting of budgetary constraints have allowed him to splash out in a joyous and cineliterate way. He knows when to go all THIRD MAN ~

And a Chaplin reference — Paddington drawn through the cogs of a clock tower — ends with him wiping off a sooty mustache that neatly tips the derby to another Londoner, another immigrant ~

Like the Harry Potters, the films are jammed with the cream (or creamed with the jam?) or British and Irish acting talent, with one Aussie, Nicole Kidman. Actually, it’s the villains of the films that pose slight difficulties: the movies are so sunny and good-natured, really investing in the dream that a benevolent bear can turn hostility and suspicion into love and acceptance, that they don’t quite know what to do with their baddies. Kidman’s nasty taxidermist actually comes complete with a heartbreaking backstory — she has simply learned entirely the wrong lesson from her father’s tragic downfall. Great as NK is at playing a hush-voiced, plummy vamp (spoofing her ex’s MISSION IMPOSSIBLE stunts), I wanted to see even her redeemed by the bear’s goodwill. Her comeuppance is fittingly mild for this kind of movie — forced to work in a petting zoo is a modest enough punishment for attempted murder — but she carries in her a bitterness that’s a far darker fate than this kind of movie can bear (sorry).

Hugh Grant — doing a wicked impression of Edward Fox — goes the opposite way in the sequel. He’s not punished at all, in that he enjoys his punishment and turns it into his dream come true. Nor does he learn anything. Being a parody of an actor, other people are irrelevant to him, and he’s never cared one way or the other about our ursine hero. So the pay-off for his character, in a sense, cannot provide 100% narrative satisfaction — but it nevertheless turns into a triumphant end credits sequence that finishes the series on an all-time high.

Additional shout-outs: Ben Whishaw voices the bear with unapologetic sweetness; Hugh Bonneville is gradually establishing himself as the UK’s bestest thing; all of Sally Hawkins films will now be seen through the retrospective fish-eye of THE SHAPE OF WATER so all her swimming and interspecies activities here are hilarious; the kids, Madeleine Harris and Samuel Joslin, sprouting alarmingly from one film to the next; Brendan Gleason, the funniest recipient of a hard stare; national treasure Jim Broadbent; Simon Farnaby, who resurrects the comedy cliché that when men drag up unconvincingly, other straight men suddenly find them irresistible.

Nights at the Villa Deodati #3: Byron and Shelley Go Boating

Posted in FILM with tags , , , , , , , on February 15, 2016 by dcairns


ROWING WITH THE WIND by Gonzalo Suarez (1988) is the least-known of the three major Mary Shelley biopics released in the second half of the eighties, and in some ways the best. In other ways, unfortunately, it might be the worst. Somehow cutting all three versions together might produce one really good film.

To clarify, I guess I should attempt to compile plus and minus columns for this picture. In the demerits, I list —


  1. Hugh Grant. Quite unable to suggest the kind of bastard Byron unquestionably was, nor yet the kind of genius he was, Grant relies on his light comedy skills to conjure some entertainment, but it’s at the expense of credibility and drama.
  2. Liz Hurley. It’s axiomatic that Hurley’s appearance in any film can only signal one thing: somebody didn’t care enough.
  3. The script, which plays fast and loose with history to a quite unacceptable degree.
  4. The film-making, which has no conception of suspense and allows the nominally scary stuff to just lie there and die there.


But to balance these colossal handicaps, the film has a number of things very much in its favour —

  1. Hugh Grant, who is genuinely funny, and signals the film’s willingness to be lighthearted as well as dour. In this he’s immeasurably aided by first-rate clowning from Ronan Vibert as a comedy manservant who would look at home in a James Whale picture.
  2. Liz Hurley. This may be her only effective performance. One may still think “Liz Hurley: someone has been careless,” but she acquits herself well with the very unnatural dialogue and looks even better naked than usual.
  3. The script, which cracks the problem of all Deodati-weekend movies — nothing actually happens — by having the monster come to flesh-and-blood life and bump off the participants, one by one, enacting a kind of curse of Frankenstein. This of course requires considerable flying in the face of history (Polidori didn’t die THEN, one thinks), but results in some uncanny and surprising scenes.
  4. The film-making. While Ivan Passer seemed to be on lithium and Ken Russell flipped through his scenario with reckless insouciance, throwing in images he’d worn out on previous ventures, Suarez produces genuinely stunning images on a regular basis ~


So, the film’s flaws and virtues are largely interchangeable. It has an eerie monster, Jose Carlos Rivas, who speaks like an answering machine, and outstanding design and cinematography (Yvonne Blake, on costume, also did Lester’s MUSKETEERS). The director’s inability to muster tension, and the cast’s variable ability to navigate the more challenging scenes, make it a rocky ride, but it hits the sublime every ten or twenty minutes, and that ain’t nuthin’.